The rebrand
A change is afoot. Lately, I've been experiencing emotions I haven't felt in a long time – some of them have even been good. Over the last decade or so, I've readily discussed the lows, the anger, the despair, but rarely spoken of any highs. Even when I've been okay, I've only ever really acknowledged just that: I'm okay. My "brand," or persona, is one of sarcasm and saltiness, often with an underlying perception of arrogance – the latter being a defense mechanism, a way of making myself unavailable or distant to avoid getting hurt or hurting others as I have in the past. I tend to offer people a glimpse into my life, but I regularly draw the curtains, and there's absolutely no way I'm opening them fully.
I have a great deal to be grateful for. Oriana, my partner, is a constant source of support and love. I don't credit her enough for both my recovery and my progress. Our time together is when I feel most content: evenings out sharing our love of food and wine, our regular trips away, and planning our future together. This has been the foundation, the launchpad, for the recent changes; it's a constant, and I need to acknowledge and celebrate it more. Without her, none of what follows would have happened.
My physical and mental health rarely align, and perhaps this is the first time I can recall it happening. My drive has always been as much a curse as a blessing; there's never been a balance, until now maybe.
I still get urges to do things – make more of ASCND, plan stupid rides, do more social media, create a brand – but then I remember the past and the damage it inflicted on me and those around me. My job has required me to be more visible lately, which has perhaps helped me step out of the shadows a bit more, giving fewer fucks and focusing on the important ones. Moreover, being in a supportive workplace with managers who figured me out quickly has given me real confidence in what I do (I fucking hate how quickly they saw through me and can motivate me – kudos, gents).
All of this has accumulated, and while I've experienced happiness and stability and been very "content" over the last few years, I can't say there have been many moments of true joy – until now.
During our last few trips away with Oriana, we've been planning our future. I'm able to look forward; I want to do things for and with her. I don't feel like I'm hiding any stress from her or taking any out on her. I have to pinch myself sometimes when we're away in whichever Italian town or village, soaking in the life we want together; that's when I'm at my happiest, and I need to show it more.
On a recent work trip (it was most definitely work), I took a group of people on a ride from London to Lille. It brought back memories of running trips with Sommet, my travel company – all the planning, the delivery, and most importantly, the responses from those who joined me. I not only delivered a banging trip but also created memories and bonds in a way only shared time on the road can. On the Saturday, a side of me emerged publicly that I don't think people have seen for a very long time, and this is where the "Rebrand" was first mentioned.
I doubt Oriana has seen the change; she puts up with me daily, and the familiarity probably obscures the changes and progress. However, her support has been the key to all of this.
The people on the trip only know the me I've ever wanted to show them. On that Saturday, and throughout the trip, they got to see a different me, and I'm really proud that I felt comfortable enough to be myself. As we sat on the side of the road watching the riders pass us on the Paris-Roubaix sportive, accompanied by banging Euro tunes, basking in the glorious sunshine and maybe a few too many beers, all my barriers came down. I found myself cheering and screaming at strangers riding past, ringing my Wahoo cowbell I'd "borrowed" from somewhere, and even at some point dancing (WTF). Imagine Nick Frendo, full ASCND lycra kit, cowbell in one hand, beer in another, on the side of a cobbled road – Sector 8, to be accurate – dancing. I know, right? Let's hope for everyone's sake there's no footage.
What I was experiencing was joy, an emotion I hadn't felt in decades. I had the confidence to completely let go. I didn't care what people thought or saw in those moments. I wasn't trying to be cool; I'd lost my inhibitions, and it wasn't about trying not to give a fuck – it was actually not giving a fuck and not having to think about it.
I like the current version of me. Sure, I'll still flit between salty, and my humor will always lean towards the darker and more sarcastic side. And I'll always be looking over my shoulder, expecting the darker times to return, as that little motherfucker in the back of my head tells me this won't last. But for the moment, he can get in his box and leave me the fuck alone.
I'm good. I hope I get to show you the new me, the rebrand, and The Road to Respair.
Images courtesy of Richard Oxford or me